


Worth the Date

by phoenixquest



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Dates, Fluff, M/M, Sweet, date stood me up AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-23 19:55:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13197423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixquest/pseuds/phoenixquest
Summary: Anders arrives early for a date – his fourth in two months. As he waits (and waits…) he finally starts to accept that he’s been stood up. Before he can write the night off entirely, however, a handsome man with the goofiest grin he’s ever seen manages to turn things around. Modern AU.





	Worth the Date

**Author's Note:**

> This comes from that "my date stood me up but you came over and pretended to be my date so I don't look so stupid" AU idea that has floated around for a while. I hope you enjoy it!

“Reservation for two. Under ‘Anders’.”

Anders waited, somewhat apprehensive, while the girl behind the stand looked at her paper. He _really_ wanted this date to go well; his last three had been disasters.

“Follow me,” the girl said after finding his name, motioning Anders after her, and he breathed a small sigh of relief. At least something had gone correctly so far, even if it was minor.

He saw the glances of some of the other curious patrons as he followed the girl between tables to a seat in the back, near a large picture window. He knew he was good-looking, and he’d dressed nice in a button-down with black slacks, but their stares unnerved him anyway.

“Your server will be right with you,” the girl said as he took his seat at the table she indicated, handing him a menu. “I’ll bring your other party back when they arrive.”

“Thank you,” Anders murmured, trying to get a handle on his nerves.

He looked down at the menu, not really seeing it, and took a deep breath, counting to four before letting it out. It helped, some. He wasn’t ordinarily so anxious about dates, but after the three most recent failures, his confidence was taking quite a hit.

The first woman hadn’t liked finding out he was willing to share his bed with more than just women. It had annoyed him, but hadn’t rattled him much; he’d run into the attitude before, and despite her apparent feelings on the matter, knew that it wasn’t a failing of _his_. Plus, she’d been rude to their waiter; he couldn’t stand people like that anyway.

The second had been with a man, and though the date had gone well enough, he’d left after Anders took him back to his place and went down on him. Then never called.

The third was another woman, and she hated cats. That was _never_ going to work out.

And so he waited, leg bobbing with nervous energy, for date number four. In two months. He probably would’ve given up and not bothered for a while, but Isabela had pushed him to go through this “one last time”. He almost regretted telling his friend about this girl, Mira, but Isabela had a way of getting things out of people.

Mira, he had met in the park. He was in the middle of a morning run, lost in his own thoughts as his music blared through his headphones, when all of a sudden he rounded a corner at the same time she did; they smacked into one another, both staggering wildly, and then both burst out laughing.

After several “I’m sorry’s” and “No, it was my fault’s”, they’d exchanged numbers. She texted him that very evening, which had led to a few days of flirtation; Mira was quite a tease, and quite forward. He’d finally asked her to dinner…and so here he sat.

And waited.

“Get you anything to drink?” his waitress said, shaking him out of his musings. He looked over to find her smiling brightly at him – _must be the beginning of her shift_ , he thought wryly.

“Water, for now,” he said, smiling kindly back. At least the staff was friendly so far; the last place he’d gone had been plain rude. She went off to get his water, leaving him alone again.

He pulled out his phone to check the time – it was seven exactly, which was the time they’d decided on. _Stop worrying_ , he scolded himself, fiddling with the phone on the table. So she wasn’t there the moment the clock ticked over. How many people were right on time for things, anyway?

He messed around with various games on his phone, nothing holding his attention much. Every movement in the corner of his eye made his head snap up to see if it was Mira approaching. He tried staring out the window for a while instead; the restaurant wasn’t brightly-lit enough to keep him from being able to see through the glass to the evening outside. At least there was plenty to watch; a small, grassy courtyard was across the street, people coming and going constantly in the warm spring weather.

The waitress delivered his water quickly, and he took a long drink from it just for something to do.

A quarter past, he started getting _really_ antsy. He unlocked his phone, opening the messaging app to make sure he hadn’t missed something from her; he hadn’t. He thought about texting her, but decided against it – it was only fifteen minutes, he reasoned, and he didn’t want to seem demanding.

At seven twenty-five, he had worried his lip so much he began to taste blood. He took another deep breath and let it out. Maybe he should text Isabela? No, he decided against that at once. She’d come down and make things more awkward, he was sure of it. 

Were the other tables staring? It felt like it, but he wasn’t brave enough to look at any of them to check.

Was he being stood up? Maybe something had happened, he thought, opening the messaging app once again and considering sending a message. Just to check if she was okay. That wouldn’t be weird, right?

_A few more minutes_ , he told himself. _Give her until seven thirty, and then you can text her_.

Seven thirty arrived. He was positive people were staring at him. Snickering? Well…maybe he _was_ being paranoid about that one.

Then seven thirty-one.

At seven thirty-two, his patience had run out; he was going to text her, and if she thought it was too weird that was just the price he’d pay. He couldn’t stand not knowing.

_-Hey, you on your way? Looking forward to seeing you :)_

That was normal enough. He hoped.

He stared at his phone, as though not taking his eyes off it might force it to beep with a notification. It didn’t seem to be working.

At seven forty, he asked for a glass of wine. He was going to crawl right out of his skin if he didn’t have _something_.

Seven fifty. He could _feel_ the eyes on him, staring, wondering.

Seven fifty-five.

At seven fifty-eight (his eyes were glued to the clock on his phone now), he heard footsteps approaching. The waitress, probably. He’d ask for the check and go home.

“I’m _so_ sorry, sweetheart!” a voice exclaimed, much louder and deeper than the one he anticipated, and it startled him into looking up. 

A dark-haired man stood there, looking at him with deep brown eyes and a little grin on his face. Anders’ eyes widened in shock; he had no idea what was going on, but he was sure he’d never seen this man before. (He would’ve remembered the beard, if nothing else.)

“I – “ he tried, his voice a croak from surprise, but the other man didn’t seem to care.

He bent down, on the guise of kissing Anders’ cheek, and Anders almost shivered as the other man breathed into his ear, “Just play along.” Standing upright again, the man continued in a normal voice, “I know, I’m terribly late; I’ve been so rude. I’ll make it up to you.” He plopped himself down in the chair across from Anders and gave him an apologetic look, complete with puppy-dog eyes. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Still bewildered, Anders took a moment to find his voice. It only took a second for him to make up his mind, though; what did he have to lose, after all?

“I suppose I can,” Anders answered with a tentative smile, and the man positively _beamed_ at him.

The waitress walked over then, pleasant smile still in place, and asked if they’d like to order, now that they were both there.

“Sure,” the man spoke up, his smile still wide. “I’m sorry for making _you_ wait, too” he added to her, making Anders’ eyebrows raise; _that_ was a level of politeness he rarely saw. “I’ll have whatever wine he’s already ordered, and – “ he glanced down at the menu for the briefest moment – “the tilapia.” He looked over at Anders then. “Order whatever you want, darling,” he said, smirking slightly. “This one’s on me, for being so late meeting you.”

Anders couldn’t help it – he snorted. He didn’t even know this man’s name, but he _was_ amusing. And more than a little ridiculous.

He placed his own order for the steak and the waitress took their menus and left, giving them the chance to talk again.

“Hi,” the man said then, a lopsided smile on his face as he looked back at Anders. He kept his voice quieter, the conversation just between the two of them, no other tables close enough to pay attention to them. “I’m Garrett. I hope I didn’t overstep.”

“Hello, Garrett,” Anders said with a quiet chuckle. “My name’s Anders. I was just…” he trailed off, a faint blush creeping up his neck. _Stood up_ made him sound so foolish.

“Waiting for a date that was stupid to not show up?” Garrett suggested wryly. 

Anders flushed more deeply and nodded.

“Their loss,” Garrett scoffed. “You look fantastic.”

Anders was sure his face was bright red now.

“How did you – I mean – why did you come over here?” Anders questioned, leaning forward to keep the conversation even quieter. “How did you know I was…being stood up?”

“I saw you waiting,” Garrett admitted, leaning in close as well. “I…actually saw you walk in.”

“Wait,” Anders said, confused. “Have you been _here_ this whole time?”

“Over there,” Garrett said, nodding across the street to the park out the window. “I was just…people watching.”

Anders noticed Garrett was a little red-faced now, too.

“I’m sorry,” Garrett blew out a breath. “I sound like a stalker.”

“No,” Anders said with a bit of a smile. “Not…really, anyway. People-watching can be fun.” 

Garrett smiled, relieved. 

“Well, I noticed you when you walked by,” Garrett told him. “You _do_ look really good. I saw you walk in the door…and then when I looked over again, you were at the window here.” His smile faltered. “You seemed anxious…and you were checking your phone a lot. You looked…sad,” he added, and Anders got the impression that the man had truly cared about him being sad. “So I got the idea you were being stood up. And decided to take a chance.”

“ _Why_?” Anders asked, baffled.

“My sister thinks I need to take more chances,” Garrett laughed, his cheeks a bit pink. “And I figured…what better chance to take than on a handsome man?” He paused. “I…may have also had a bad date recently. Or seven.”

Anders snorted; that he could sympathize with.

“Well, crazy as it may sound…I’m glad you did,” Anders offered with a shy smile. “This night has turned more interesting than it seemed like it would be a little bit ago.” 

Garrett gave him that beaming smile again, and he felt his heart thump just a little faster.

Anders’ phone beeped just then, making him jump; he’d forgotten it was still lying on the table in front of him. He looked down; it was from Mira.

“Oh,” he said in surprise. “I’d given up on her bothering to reply.”

“What’d she say?” Garrett asked, and Anders noticed the man looked anxious now. Perhaps thinking Anders would abandon him, now he had his answer?

“Might as well check, huh?” Anders said, steeling himself. He was sure it wouldn’t be anything that would make him feel better. He flicked open the text.

_-lol oh… I wasn’t serious. I thought you’d give up by now. Delete my # please!!!_

He stared at the phone for a minute, hardly able to comprehend what he read. Seriously? All their flirtatious texts, and then this?

“Ouch,” Garrett said softly, and Anders flicked his gaze up to the man across from him. He had a sympathetic look on his face. “That bad?”

Anders didn’t say anything, just handed him the phone. He watched as Garrett read it, the other man’s mouth falling open and his eyebrows shooting up as he finished.

“You’re kidding me,” Garrett said, shaking his head and offering the phone back to Anders. “I feel better about my bad luck, then.”

Anders just sighed, shoving the phone into his pocket.

“I never should’ve listened to Isabela,” he muttered.

Their food arrived then, the waitress still smiling as she set down the plates and asked if they needed anything else.

“More wine for us both,” Garrett said with half a glance at Anders, who was downing the rest of his glass.

“Of course,” she said before walking away.

“I don’t normally drink much,” Anders said a little sheepishly, setting down his empty wine glass.

“That’s alright,” Garrett said with a grin. “I think one more glass would be helpful…after that.”

Anders blew out a breath and rolled his eyes – the man wasn’t wrong.

The two started on their food, both eating more than talking for a bit; Anders had been expecting to eat over an hour before, so he was quite hungry. Their waitress brought the glasses of wine, which Garrett – whose mouth wasn’t full of food like Anders’ was – thanked her for. 

“So who’s Isabela?” Garrett asked after their initial hunger had been sated enough for them to slow down. “Sister?”

“No,” Anders said with a fond little smile, “but close enough. Good friend. Might as well be my sister.”

“Why’d she tell you to go out with this woman?” Garrett wanted to know.

“She knows my last few dates didn’t go well,” Anders admitted, looking at his plate rather than at Garrett. He wasn’t sure why he was embarrassed; the man had said the same thing happened to him, after all. “She just wants me to be happy. But I’d been ready to give up. Should have,” he added, shaking his head and reaching for his wine again.

“Maybe,” Garrett nodded, glaring at the table where the phone had been sitting. Then he looked up at Anders and smiled brightly. “But then, I never would’ve gotten to meet you.”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Anders laughed, though he was pleased at the compliment. “I could be a horrible person, for all you know. Perhaps you’re better off not knowing me.” He hoped he’d kept the bitterness out of his voice; he was only teasing, mostly, but Garrett didn’t need to hear the truth behind the thoughts.

“Pfft,” Garrett scoffed, swallowing a mouthful of fish – that he made any noise at all was quite an accomplishment, Anders thought with amusement. “You’re gorgeous, you waited an _hour_ for a date who wasn’t going to show, and you’re crazy enough to play along with a complete stranger pretending to be your missing date,” the man grinned. “Maybe I don’t know much, but nothing there points to ‘horrible person.’”

Anders’ face was already heated from the wine, but Garrett’s words made him flush deeper.

“I can’t help but notice,” Garrett added, somehow seeming hesitant for the first time, “you don’t seem to have a problem pretending that I’m your date, even though you were meeting a woman. Are you -?”

_Here it is_ , Anders thought dully. And the man had seemed so nice, too. Better to find out this fast, he supposed.

“I’ve always believed people fall in love with a person, not just a body,” he said, somewhat stiffly as he cut off the man across from him. “I’ve never had a problem dating whoever might catch my attention.”

“I’m sorry,” Garrett rushed to say. “I meant no offense, I really was just curious. I’m bi, too.”

“Oh,” Anders said, his face coloring again. “Sorry. I’ve…had that problem before.”

“Believe me, so have I,” Garrett sighed, shaking his head a little. “But don’t worry. I understand.” He grinned then. “I mostly just wondered if I even had a chance,” he teased.

Anders laughed, color still in his cheeks; this man was beyond intriguing.

“I suppose you do,” he answered, and Garrett’s grin grew – impossibly – wider.

They’d both finished eating by the time the waitress came back, asking if they wanted dessert.

“I’m finished,” Anders said, shaking his head. He was really quite ready to head home and relax, even as pleasant as Garrett’s company had been. 

“Two brownies to go,” Garrett smiled at the waitress. “And just one check, please.” 

She was gone before Anders could protest.

“You don’t need to pay for this,” Anders said quietly, frowning. “If anything, I should be treating you, for being so kind to me.”

“Nah, I promised,” Garrett said with a wink. “I almost stood you up, after all.”

Anders couldn’t stop a laugh; this man was _thoroughly_ ridiculous.

“Anyway, you can pay next time,” Garrett offered, a hopeful smile on his face. 

Anders choked on the wine he’d been about to swallow.

“Next time?” he coughed, staring at Garrett with wide eyes.

Garrett’s smile turned sheepish.

“Well…I mean, I understand if you’d rather just swear off dating for a while,” Garrett admitted. “I just…like you, Anders,” he added, face red as Anders’ had been most of the evening. 

Anders smiled in return, pleased.

“I like you, too, Garrett,” he said. “Maker take me,” he added, shaking his head. “I’d love to go…out with you. Again.” 

Anders felt a little thunk in his chest at the way Garrett’s entire face lit up.

“Excellent,” the man grinned. “And I swear, I won’t be so late next time,” he added with a wink, making Anders laugh.

“I guess you’ll be needing my number, then,” Anders suggested, pulling out his phone. 

Garrett did the same, the two exchanging numbers as the waitress brought back Garrett’s brownies and the bill. Once he’d paid, the two got up to leave, Garrett walking Anders to his car.

“I had a good time this evening, Anders,” Garrett smiled as they stopped by Anders’ car. 

“Me, too,” Anders agreed, smiling back somewhat shyly. It had certainly turned out better than he’d expected it to. “Text me tomorrow?”

“If I can wait that long,” Garrett grinned, and Anders felt his cheeks flush again. “Here,” he added, handing Anders one of the bags with a brownie in it. “I know you wanted to get home, but what’s life without dessert?”

“Oh,” Anders said, staring at the bag in surprise. “I – Garrett, you didn’t need to – “

“They’re delicious,” Garrett promised, taking Anders’ hand and putting the bag into it himself. “You’ll thank me later.”

Anders found he really didn’t want the man to let go of his hand. The happy, tingly feeling the touch gave him made him feel impulsive; before he could rethink the idea, he leaned forward, pressing his lips to Garrett’s.

“Mmm,” Garrett hummed into the kiss, bringing his free hand to Anders’ neck and pulling him slightly closer. Anders tingled all over.

“Thanks,” Anders murmured, pulling away with some reluctance. 

Garrett squeezed his hand where he still held it, smiling in a dazed sort of way.

“I should definitely be thanking _you_ ,” Garrett replied, somewhat breathless. He shook himself, and Anders willed himself to calm down. He was supposed to be heading home. “I do hope you enjoy the brownie,” Garrett added. “Have a good night, Anders.”

“You, too, Garrett,” Anders said, watching the man walk away. He smiled to himself. This disaster had turned into something very, very good.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & kudos are always appreciated :)


End file.
